


In Libris, Liberitas

by Ribby



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Ianto, books are freedom.  The Tardis has a Library.  She also has other passengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Libris, Liberitas

**Author's Note:**

> This is unapologetically AU; Ianto, on the Tardis with Nine, Rose and Jack. I have no idea how he got there, but really, I wanted to see Ianto with Nine. And since there aren't that many stories out there (though there are some *really* good ones), I decided to write a short version. Well, it started out short. *grin* 1300-odd words later...

I. In Libris: The Tardis

It wasn't that Ianto Jones felt... unwanted. Never that. If they didn't want him, he wouldn't be traveling through space and time in a blue Police Box with a London girl, a 51st-century flirt, and an alien who could feel time. And here he was, so they must want him.

But sometimes he felt, well, like a fourth wheel. They had jokes, stories, even *songs* for godssake, that were all about the three of them; and even though they always included him, sometimes it was more like a wall than an inclusion.

Times like this, Ianto blessed his ability to disappear. He'd slip out of the Tardis control room, or the den, or wherever, and head for his sanctuary--the Library.

The first time the Tardis led him there, he couldn't believe it. Not the size, so much, since, hello, bigger on the inside ship? But more the breadth of knowledge on her shelves. The first few times, all he did was wander, a crick developing in his neck from turning his head to look at spines.

After that, the Tardis learned to suggest books to him, and he'd curl up in one of the surprisingly comfortable wing chairs to read. The Library was Ianto's comfort room, and they all respected that.

_In libris, liberitas_. In books, freedom. Ianto has held to that for much of his life--with a Library Science degree and a position as head Archivist at both Torchwoods. Even in the confines of the Archives, there is freedom in the stories of alien contact, other races, other places.

And now, when he is exposed to other races and places on a daily basis, books are his freedom. His escape. His link to those around him, those who can and do and, in Jack's case, will love him. And that has its own freedom.

  


II. Ex Libris: Rose

They each come to fetch him at different times. Rose comes and tucks up on the couch with him, content to talk about 21st century life, and he loves her for it. Someone else who understands the ways and mores of a time both Jack and the Doctor consider backward; someone who gets his jokes, understands his references. Someone he can talk with about Jack, this Jack, who flirts incessantly and never seems to mean it. Oddly enough, though, they don't discuss the Doctor, and whether this is due to their own ignorance, or a certain sense of shyness, Ianto doesn't know... and isn't at all keen to find out.

More often than not, they end up collapsed on the couch in laughter over some silly joke or stupid commentary... there are more than a few books written about the 20th and early 21st century by *very* confused travelers. It's always easier being homesick with someone who knows your home. Even if Rose isn't too keen on Cardiff--well, to be truthful, Ianto's none too keen on London himself.

And when they leave, the homesickness is always a little less, the joy in their traveling life a little more. Ianto, ever the gentleman, offers Rose his arm, and they leave arm in arm, ready for the next new world, the next adventure, the next "Run for your lives."

  
III. Ex Libris: Jack

Jack can never sit still in the Library, so when he comes to fetch Ianto, he roams through the shelves, commenting on the best passages in this or that novel (and for "best," read "smuttiest," although Ianto finds it difficult to find anything erotic about six-armed beings with hair an inch thick...), throwing himself down on the couch and then bouncing up again a moment later.

It's this, more than anything, that reminds Ianto this is not *his* Jack, but an earlier, younger, and less... dark version. And oddly enough, the attraction he feels for Jack is there, but lessened. _I love him for his mind, and his history,_ Ianto realizes one day, and nearly breaks into hysterical giggles. Good thing he doesn't, because Jack is as curious as a cat, and would tease (and he did mean *tease*) the whole story out of him. And Ianto has no interest in being the focus of the Doctor's wrath, should that happen.

Ianto's learned that Jack only takes being ignored for so long (about the length of half a chapter), and then he'll start trying to pull Ianto away from his book. So Ianto, always, puts a mental bookmark at that half-chapter, quietly places the book on the sturdy oak table that appeared one day next to his favorite chair, and lets Jack usher him out. Jack says it's because he's a gentleman, but Ianto knows Jack's letting him go first so he can ogle Ianto's ass. And really, he doesn't mind.

  


IV. Ex Libris: The Tardis

If it has been a particularly difficult day (either from a "run for your life" perspective or a "you're not part of us" perspective), he'd curl up against the Tardis's walls, and she'd hum quietly at him while he read, calming and soothing.

Jack would tease him about flirting with the Tardis, but in truth, he thought she liked him because he was quiet, inobtrusive. Much like herself.

The Tardis never judged, never asked uncomfortable questions, never made him wonder what he was doing here. She simply *was*, and Ianto loved that about her. Thankfully, she seemed to be similarly fond of him.

When his mind was settled (words were good for that, so ordered and tidy, taking you places you'd never been before and familiar landscapes you always wanted to go back to), inevitably, she would "nudge" him, a mental "go back out there, they're waiting for you," and he'd slowly bring himself back and leave. He'd trail his hand along the walls to keep that contact as long as he could, smiling at the pleased hum, the warm colors pulsing under his hand.

  


V. Ex Libris: The Doctor

He both loves and fears when the Doctor comes to get him--it happens so seldom. Unlike Rose, Jack, or even the Tardis, he doesn't announce himself--he's just suddenly *there*. Sometimes he'll comment on what Ianto is reading, sometimes Ianto will just look up and find him there, watchful and intent. Rarely, the Doctor will join him on the large, comfortable couch, book in hand, and they'll read in silence, joined in the worship of words.

After a particularly nasty time in the City of Dreaming Books, Ianto cannot get near the Library for days, remembering books that bite, snarl, smother, books burning and crying out in pain... The Doctor, an understanding sorrow in his eyes, quietly wraps his arm about Ianto's shoulders, and just as quietly, leads him to the Library. They sit on the couch, Ianto's head on the Doctor's shoulder, and mourn the books destroyed. Ianto, exhausted, falls asleep that way, waking suddenly and with a great deal of embarrassment as he realizes that his head is in the Doctor's lap, rough denim and soft-scratchy wool against his cheek, and the Doctor is slowly, soothingly, running his long fingers through Ianto's hair.

"Hush," his Northern accent purrs quietly. "No reason to leave, we're in the Vortex, and nothing and no-one needs us now." There's a rustling noise, and then the Doctor begins to read:

"Snow was falling on Riverside, great white feather-puffs that veiled the cracks in the facades of its ruined houses; slowly softening the harsh contours of jagged roof and fallen beam..."

The Doctor stops after the first few chapters (though he hasn't stopped stroking Ianto's hair), and puts the book down, neatly bookmarked. "Time to go, lad. They're probably gossiping about us as it is... silly apes."

Ianto grins. "I'm an ape too, Doctor, remember?"

Flash of that gentle smile. "Yes, but you're anything but a silly ape. C'mon, now, shift." He helps Ianto sit up, and stands, waiting for a moment. Then he extends his hand.

Ianto smiles, and takes the offered hand, and the Doctor links their fingers together. They walk out, side by side, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> The book the Doctor is reading to Ianto is Ellen Kushner's _Swordspoint_. No real reason for it being that particular book, except that I love it madly. And I expect Ianto (and the Doctor) would too.


End file.
